


23 Minutes

by VoxHumana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: College AU, Fluff, Give Keith a raise, M/M, Nonsense, Pizza Delivery Boy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoxHumana/pseuds/VoxHumana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That's a fun story, actually." Pidge replied, taking a sip of their champagne as Shiro eyed them disapprovingly. "Apparently screaming and general douchebaggery is some kind of foreplay for them. Go figure."</p>
<p>Or, the story of how Lance spent $329 dollars on pizza this month.</p>
            </blockquote>





	23 Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Title: The Pinapple Pizza Discourse
> 
> Currently un-beta'd, so if you like commas and are looking for something to do, hmu. My tumblr is in the bottom notes.
> 
> ***cue 70's porno music***

“Okay, what about Anthony’s?”

“Ugh, no.” Lance replied with a grimace. “The last time we ordered from them, there was more grease than pizza. I’ll pass, thanks.”

Pidge sighed, crossing them off the list. “Uh, how ‘bout Maiello’s?”

Hunk shook his head. “No can do, Lance and I got banned from there a few months ago. They sent a formal letter and everything. And a brochure for AA.”

Pidge looked at Lance incredulously, and he put his hands up defensively. “I wasn’t even drunk, that’s just my personality! And why did you just immediately assume it was me? It could have been Hunk!”

Pidge snorted, crossing out Maiello’s name. “No it could _not_ have. At this point we’re going to be stuck with Pizza Hut, so thanks for that, Lance.”

Their old, blue couch made an ominous _creak_ as Lance threw himself onto it, subsequently squishing Pidge in the process. Hunk pulled the directory away from them and slid onto the floor as Lance shoved his foot over Pidge’s mouth, muffling their protests.

He perused the list for a few minutes before pointing to a name that had yet to be scribbled out. “What about that place that’s Shiro’s girlfriend owns, Alfor’s?” He asked Pidge, who had managed to climb on top of Lance and was currently pushing his face into the couch.

They raised an eyebrow as they kicked Lance lightly in the side, his whines increasing in volume. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Hunk? The last time we gave money to one of Shiro’s girlfriends, you ended up with a fuckboi haircut.”

Lance’s pitiful “uncle!” from inside the cushion prompted a resigned sigh from Pidge, who acquiesced and rolled off of him, holding out a hand to help him up. Lance righted himself and gasped in a lungful of air, shooting daggers at his shorter friend on the opposite end of the couch. “First of all,” he squawked, red-faced, “Hunk and I had the _same haircut_!”

“Yeah,” Pidge agreed, grabbing the Xbox controller, “but yours was accurate.”

“Wow, what the hell-”

“Guys,” Hunk implores, “c’mon. _Pizza._ ”

The sound of Big Band music filled the room as Pidge started up their game. “If you want it so bad, Hunk, then go ahead and call ‘em. It can’t be any worse than what we’re currently eating, which is nothing.”

“‘Kay, I’ll place an order then. What’re we getting?”

“Cheese. Yeah!” Pidge called out, having successfully hacked the Terminal.

“Hawaiian for me, bro.”

“Ew, Lance, what the fuck.”

“Don’t police my pizza, Pidge.”

“Then stop putting goddamn _fruit_ on it!”

“Hi, is this Alfor’s Pizza? …Yeah, I’ll hold!”

Hunk watched as Pidge’s controller crashed into the wall next to Lance’s head. God, he loved Friday nights.

 

\---

 

Lance tapped his fingers against the dark wood of the table, his eyes glancing back and forth as he alternated between staring down the door and the oven clock impatiently. Pidge and Hunk had found the beat his fingers made to be the perfect beat for a rap battle about a half an hour prior, though they’d quickly grown bored of it after Lance had repeatedly booed their efforts. “I thought they said the pizza would be here in under an hour?”

Pidge glanced up at the clock behind them. “They’re only, like, fifteen minutes late, chill.”

“Which is fifteen minutes later than they said it’d be! Those pizzas are costing us fifteen bucks a piece, the least they could do is get them here on time!” He replied, flinging his hands out dramatically. Honestly, was some punctuality from the people he was giving his money to too much to ask? Okay, so maybe he’d spent his free hour between classes hitting on the pretty cashier at Jamba Juice instead of getting a real lunch, and so _maybe_ he was borderline starving and way more irritable than usual, but that was beside the point.

“Lance.” Pidge replied tetchily, “You have been late to everything you’ve ever done. You show up twenty minutes late to AERO 305 every single Monday with a Macchiato and a danish. Rebecca told me in the group chat that you showed up to her wedding in jeans halfway through the ceremony, and still managed to somehow turn up late for the reception as well. You have no moral high ground here.”

“Yeah well, I’m not paying myself to do those things. Also, why are you in a group chat with my sister?”

“I’m in a group chat with all of your siblings.”

“What.”

He heard Hunk laugh from the kitchen—and even when he was in the deepest pits of frustration, Hunk’s laugh still managed to fill him with warmth and affection—before he came out and joined Lance at the table, sliding a cup of tea towards him.

“Speaking of your family, who loves Pidge and I more than you, your mom invited me on your vacation to Holguín this year.” Hunk added.

Lance placed his hand over his heart dramatically, his eyes full of betrayal. “Et tu, Hunk?”

The theatrical image was somewhat ruined as he took a sip of his tea, spilling it down his shirt. Both Pidge and Hunk laughed emphatically at that, while Lance whined and dabbed uselessly at his shirt with a paper towel. Hunk was in the bathroom looking for a Tide stick for him when the doorbell finally rang.

“Finally!” Lance shouted as he threw himself at the door, ripping the door open and causing the handle to slam into the wall. He chose to ignore Pidge’s complaints in the background.

“You!” He continued to yell, pointing a finger at the dark-haired and frankly unimpressed Delivery Boy standing in the door way.

“Me.” The man replied in a bored tone, as he reached into his pack to pull out their pizzas, and _holy shit_ , did he have a _mullet_?

“I have a large cheese and large half-Hawaiian half-combination for…” He squinted at the paper. “Pidge. Just Pidge. Huh.”

“You are 23 minutes late!” Lance screeched, flailing his arms about while the Pizza Boy looked on at him dubiously.

“I’m… sorry? You ordered pizza on a Friday night from the only decent place around, which just so happens to only have one runner,” he pointed at himself, looking increasingly flustered by the second, “and is on the other side of the city; Altea isn’t exactly small. If it’s that important to you, I can give you a coupon…?”

At this point Pidge and Hunk had moved up behind him to watch the scene play out, Hunk wringing his hands nervously and while Pidge somehow looked both exasperated and a little gleeful. Neither moved to intervene though because hey, they didn’t have cable and Lance knew that he tended to be some of the best entertainment at their disposal.

“I don’t want a coupon,” Lance replied, “I want my pizza on time!”

The Pizza Boy stared at him in befuddlement. “I can’t… go back in time.”

Pidge let out an unbecoming snort.

Lance sighed. “Listen, Tony-”

“It’s Keith.”

“Delivering pizzas is not that hard. It’s only a three step process: One, pick up the pizza, two, drive the pizza to Lance, and three, give Lance the pizza before he keels over and dies of starvation.”

The Delivery Boy, Keith apparently, began to look a little peeved. “And what, you think _you_ could do a better job?”

Hunk inched his way closer to the door as Lance let out a huff.

“I _know_ I could.” He retorted.

“Well, forgive me for doubting the competence of a man who’s got spilled tea all over himself.”

“Wow, it is tea, good eye!” Hunk added, impressed.

“Hunk, what the hell, man, he’s the enemy!”

“I’m the _enemy_?”

Keith looked like he was two seconds from decking Lance in the face, so Hunk pushed him to the side softly and quickly pulled out his wallet; he handed Keith the money for the pizzas, as well as a ten dollar tip so that maybe they wouldn’t end up banned from _another_ pizza place tonight.

“Have a nice night, drive safe!” Hunk called out, once Keith had handed over the pizzas. Keith didn’t reply and seemed to be doing his best to get out of there as fast as humanly possible, for which Hunk couldn’t really blame him.

“Dude, I wasn’t done with him yet!” Lance moaned as Pidge sat against the wall and _cackled_.

Stepping lightly over Pidge’s controller, Hunk moved over to the living area and set down the pizzas on the coffee table, opening them up to make sure they were correct. “Lance, I love you so much, but for some reason ordering take-out turns you into an asshole, and for once I would really like for our food to not be accompanied by pizza exile.”

“Ugh, _fine_. But did you have to give Mullet Man a thirty percent tip? It undermines my authority.”

Pidge scoffed. “Lance, you don’t _have_ any authority. We all know that I’m the one in charge around here. Speaking of which,” they added, jumping over the back onto the couch and grabbing a plate, “Why’d ya’ order the pizzas in my name Hunk?”

He shrugged sheepishly, pushing Pidge’s feet off the cushions so he could sit next to them. “I was hoping that if Lance got banned this time, I could avoid the fallout.”

“So you threw me under the bus instead?!” Their tone was playful, though they did throw their feet into Hunk’s lap.

“Yep. And clearly I made the right choice.”

Usually this would be the moment that Lance jumped into their banter at his own defense, so it was rather jarring when they were instead met with radio silence. Looking up in confusion, they both watched as Lance paced around the kitchen, muttering to himself.

“Lance?” Pidge asked, curiously. “You okay, bud?”

Lance wasn’t particularly known for knowing when to leave well enough alone, and rather notorious for holding petty grudges and fixating on them for years. Like that one kid in preschool who he declared was his rival because he’d beaten Lance in dodgeball, and whom Lance proceeded to give a concussion the next time they’d played, not by managing to hit him with a ball but by ramming their foreheads together when he lost.

Lance had to switch preschools after that (and he was still bitter about it to this day).

Thus even now, eighteen years later, he had yet to lose that particular personality trait.

“Stupid Keith and his stupid hair… bringing my pizza late… time machine.”

Folding their pizza in half, Pidge hummed in acknowledgment towards Lance before taking a bite. They took a moment to chew before they spoke. “If you’re going to be this salty about it, why don’t you just order another pizza so he has to come back?”

Hunk, shook his head frantically, but Pidge ignored him. “That way you can tell him whatever it is you wanted to say, he can beat some manners into you, and Hunk and I can eat another pizza.”

Lance looked up at them before slamming his fist on the table, making Hunk wince. “That is an excellent idea! Thank you, Pidge.”

“I aim to please.” They responded, picking up Lance’s cell and holding it up for him to see. Lance hooted before coming over and grabbing his phone, sliding onto the floor into between Pidge’s legs. He dialed up Alfor’s number again as Pidge entertained themself by playing with his hair. After ordering up another Hawaiian, much to Pidge’s displeasure, he hung up the phone with a self-satisfied smirk and grabbed himself a slice of pizza.

“This isn’t going to end well.” Hunk mused quietly.

Pidge laughed, murmuring their agreement, but Lance just shrugged and took a bite of his pizza.

It was delicious.

**Author's Note:**

> And Lance's shirt never got cleaned.
> 
> 1\. So my outline has this as a three-parter, though this may change, as may the rating, as I have yet to decide whether or not to include a nsfw scene. So be on the lookout for either of these things. Also, this was basically an excuse for me to practice a more dialogue heavy writing style, as my natural writing style is detailed and pedantic, relying heavily on inner monologues. That style works well for dramas, though I don't like it as much for lighter stuff, thus why I'm experimenting with this style. 
> 
> 2\. Pidge is about 19 wheras Keith is 21 and Lance and Hunk are 22. Shiro and Allura are grad students but I don't have any solid ages in mind for them.
> 
> 3\. About half of the arguments Pidge and Lance have are directly adapted from arguments with my own brother, most memorably the "fuckboi hair" discourse. I hope he never reads this.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr **[here](http://voxamissa.tumblr.com/)**.


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